Breaking the Barriers of Scrupulosity
How a visiting priest gave me clarity and peace.
I was sitting on a cushioned bench, heart beating fast, waiting for a priest to walk into the confessional near me or for a red light to turn green. I was nervous, and I begged God to help me make a good confession. A well-meaning woman, in line for confession herself, walked around the penitents asking them if they wanted a card with the Examination of Conscience written on it. I accepted one. But I didn’t give a lot of attention to it. I was bracing myself for the moment, that moment when it would be my turn to enter the confessional and speak.
I knew I had to do this, and there was no way I was backing out.
But the Sacrament of Penance had been difficult for me ever since that one turning point in my life…
That horrible period in my young life when I developed the religious torture known as scrupulosity.
I was only eighteen years old. It had all started after Christmas, when I carried out an action that I soon began to worry had been a mortal sin. I went to confession, but then believed I had not been thorough enough and was not forgiven my supposed sin. I cried so hard and lapsed into a dark, terrible state that I never wish to revisit. Though this state only lasted a few days, I felt as if I was on fire and lost my appetite — eating was very difficult. I felt sick and completely dark inside, like something — fear, despair — was burning inside me. All peace and joy had fled me, and I felt like I had lost myself. It seemed as if the Devil was laughing at me behind my back. Panicked and scared, I was convinced I was in mortal sin and that I needed to go to Confession again.
And thus the torture began, a year-long period of intense, irrational scrupulosity, many tears, anguished confessions, and painful, guilt-ridden reception of Holy Communion. Many priests tried to reassure me, telling me, “Stop inventing mortal sins where there are none”, “Trust in God’s love for you,” “Live your life! Have fun.” Yet, I could not be healed. At first, I cried and couldn’t stand the thought that I might have lost God’s friendship. After many months, towards the end of that year, all tears had ceased, replaced by dullness, resignation and a growing indifference towards God and Catholicism. I began to rebel, to feel angry. Why? Why me? Why had God allowed this to happen to me? The scruples had gone on for so long that now my soul was burned out. I could barely pray anymore.
Then, Covid-19 had hit. Churches had closed. I could no longer receive the sacraments. I focused on my college courses. Stuck inside the house, I spent increased time on the Internet. I talked with my sister about all sorts of things and watched movies with her. We laughed together. I learned to be carefree again. My scrupulosity effectively buried itself. Yet, at the same time, I began to grow lax in my faith as thoughts of spiritual and religious matters faded away. Eventually, I started feeling that something was wrong; internally, I felt the need to draw near to God, yet was now too inexperienced with prayer to come back to him. I wrestled with my own restlessness.
And internally, I knew the scrupulosity had scarred my soul and broken me. It had shattered my faith and set up a wall between me and God.
But I knew the shards of faith were still there on the ground, waiting to be picked up. Perhaps my faith would be stronger for having been cracked, if I could just fix it.
But I was reluctant to venture back into the world of faith.
Then, I got vaccinated against Covid, the disease that had been ravaging the world. And, when Lent arrived, I did return to Mass and Confession. But it was different now. I was no longer a girl wracked with guilt and fear. Still, I found it hard to pray. I could not form a close bond with God. There was still distrust and indifference lurking in my soul.
And then eventually, scruples returned. I wracked my mind, trying to determine whether a certain action was right or wrong. Over and over again, the same anguished questions were replayed in my head. Right or wrong, right or wrong — it was like a tug-of-war in my brain. Only now, I did not cry nor panic. But I exhausted myself trying to gain correct answers. Finally, on a whim I decided to email Fr. Thomas Santa, C.S.S.R, the founder of Scrupulous Anonymous, a Catholic Redemptorist organization that ministers to scrupulous individuals. I received a very short yet meaningful response assuring me my concern was not in the least sinful, ending in the blessed words “Be at peace.”
Fr. Santa’s answer marked a turning point for me, as I finally began to see a ray of light and hope enter my tortured, confused mind. Still, one of the marks of scrupulosity is that the individual is even driven to doubt the words of Christ’s representatives. I sought reassurance from this good priest a second time, and uncertainty often lessened only to emerge again.
In the thick of my worry over the state of my soul, I began to go through RCIA, as I had not gotten a chance to receive Confirmation in my teens. I attended the classes smiling and nodding, putting up a façade of tranquility when in reality I felt so cut off from God. The barrier scrupulosity had put up between me and Him was still there, hampering my willingness to pray, to engage fully in a spiritual life. I doubted whether I was in the state of grace. Yet, I hid all my inward struggles from my sponsor and catechists. I preferred for them not to know how fragile and scattered I really was when it came to my faith. I didn’t want them to know I lacked a prayer life.
Then, that day came to confess my sins to be pure for the day of my Confirmation. At this time, I was doubting whether I could trust Fr. Santa’s reassuring replies to my emails. What if that fretful voice in my head was right, and he was wrong?
I was at the lovely Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception that day, as my whole RCIA group had been on retreat. I had gone to Confession many times here before with my mom and sister. Now, I was alone, it was only me, and I had to face this…alone.
When it was my turn, I slipped behind the curtain and knelt down. I began with the usual words: “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned…”
I began to honestly explain my internal struggles. I’d been dealing with scrupulosity… I had done things, not knowing whether they were gravely wrong or not… I’d stopped praying… “I never really know if I’m in the state of grace or not.”
The priest told me, “If we’re unsure if something we’re doing is mortal, God gives us the benefit of the doubt.”
My confidence growing, I discussed how I’d been scrupulous but at the same time lax in my faith. The priest said scrupulosity is a two-way street as the breach of trust often interferes with our ability to practice our faith. I then confided that I had emailed a priest from Scrupulous Anonymous and been told something was not a sin, but that I’d gotten doubts about whether I could believe him.
“Trust that priest, trust God,” the confessor told me. Oh, if he only knew how soothing and powerful his words were to me…! Immediately, I knew those words were not only the priest’s, but also the words of Christ.
I was instructed to put all this in the hands of Mary and entrust myself to her. And at the end of each day, to think of something I was grateful for that had happened, to focus on God’s blessings.
I left the confessional filled with happiness and peaceful clarity.
All due to the merciful grace of God working through a visiting priest, a priest I will never know the name of, who just happened to be there at the Shrine that day, who shall know in Heaven he was an instrument of God’s goodness for a suffering soul.
I prayed my penance in the darkness of the Our Lady of Lourdes Chapel, among the flickering vigil candles. And now I knew that the reassuring voice in my head that had always tried to crowd out the scrupulous forces was the true voice of God. And He loved me immensely. And He would make sure I’d never have to walk this road of life alone.
It’s Your hand in my hand, forever.
If you are suffering from scrupulosity, put complete trust in a compassionate confessor. The Scrupulous Anonymous organization is also a very helpful resource. You can find them at https://scrupulousanonymous.org/ . Fr. Thomas Santa may be reached at managescrupulosity@gmail.com
